The Things That Hide In The Dark
by King Pumkin
Summary: There was a thing in the dark and in his head. And it was singing. Hissy, hissy, little snakey/Slither on the floor... But it was also promising a path of blood, fear and slaughters ; everything that Boy, curled in his cupboard, was willing for. Dark!Harry, rating T for violence and total lack of moral.


__Alright so, uh, what to say... I had the idea in mind since quit the time, and since I have too much free time, I decided to give it a try.

Sorry for the mistakes and, well, I hope you will enjoy that ^^

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The Things That Hide In The Dark

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_The first time Boy meets It, he is five and he is dying. _

_Curled in his cupboard, he feels the blood slowly winding on his back, tainting the skin with dozen of little, crimson snakes. Those same snakes are on his cheeks, but they are not coloured –because sorrow is always translucent. _

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Slither on the floor

_The Voice sings. She always does. She is shaving fun. She is always having fun. She doesn't care that the Uncle was so mad that he broke one of the Aunt's hideous vase on Boy's back. She doesn't care that Boy is crying. She doesn't care that there is blood everywhere. _

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Slither on the floor

_She doesn't care that Boy wants to die. She doesn't care that he lacerate his ears to not hear her because he can't bear that song because he hates snakes he hates snakes he hates snakes he hates snakes they always whispers and hiss like in the song and Boy gets distracted from his work and the Uncle is not happy and he hates snakes he hates snakes he hates them all he hates the snakes and the Uncle and the Aunt and the Cousin and the snakes the snakes they never stop hissing the Voice never stops singing those two same sentences and she doesn't care-_

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Slither on the floor

_She doesn't care and she sings and Harry wants to kill her to kill the snakes to kill kill kill kill them all until there is no more sounds no more hissing no more songs no more vases no more Uncle no more Aunt no more Cousin no more pain no more cold no more cupboard no more nothing nothing nothing-_

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Swear your hatred to the pitiful eye of the crying moon,

And greedily might come your buffoon,

My new little _protégé._

_The song had been changed. The Voice is still having fun. But she seems to invite him to the feast she assists to since the beginning of times. She cares. She cares about the call Boy made. She cares about his gaze, because the beaming green is bloodied and dark and there is a monster growing and the Voice likes it. So she cares. _

_There are hands on Boy's back, and they carefully collect all the blood, and there are hands on his cheeks and they collect the tears and there are hands everywhere, calming him, caring for him, and everything become more and more cold but inside Boy it is so warm that it becomes painful. _

Hissy, hissy, little snakey

_The Voice smiles and there are mouths kissing Boy on his forehead on his scar and the mouths are all smiling and the Voice talks. And she whispers gently I am here for you, my dear child, I am here to answer your will of blood and sin, but you have to decide, my dear child, if this is what you want to be. And Boy doesn't understand but the Voice talks to him, and she says that if he agrees, if he says yes, he will have the most fearful, the most hated, the most painful, the most beautiful and lustful and terrible and marvellous life. He will have a path that will be made on the corpses of his ennemies and his friends and everyone, that he will be alone but never lonely and the Voice whispers again ang again softly, charmingly, terrifyingly. _

_Boy opens his eyes. It is his turn to not care anymore. He says the Voice to shut up. He doesn't care about the promises. He just wants to destroy everything. _

_The Voice seems pleased. A second later, Boy is not dying anymore._

_As expected, she says, as expected of you, my sweet little master. I will bow, kneel and kiss your feets, and lead you to the greatest sins that have ever been committed. And your name will be Destruction, she says, and Boy is pleased. At the same time, they say yes. _

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

The contract

Is sealed.

_Nobody knows it yet, but the world begins to crumble. _

_._

« Who are you ? »

« Your buffoon. »

« Who are you ? »

« The one that bows, kneels and kisses your feets, and brings you to damnation. »

« Who are you ? »

« Your victory and your loss. Your angel and your daemon. Your heaven and your hell. Your laughers and your tears. Your joy and your screams. Your love and your hatred. »

« Who are you ? »

« Yours. »

« Really ? »

« Yes, my sweet little master. I am Yours. Forever. »

Boy smiles an closes his eyes. For now. The monster in him is sleeping. For now. The Voice smiles and rests. For now.

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Boy is seven, and he is at the age of interrogations. Even more than before.

« Who are you ? »

« Your buffoon. »

« I have already heard your answers. I want something more clear. I don't understand all your sentences. »

The Voice laughs.

« My dear, sweet little master cannot satisfy himself with what I told him ? »

« No. Not anymore. »

A silence.

« Are you mad at me ? »

« No. Of course not. I am yours. I am your slave, your toy, everything you want me to be. I am the one who bows, kneels and kisses your feets. I will nev er be mad at you, but you will be mad at me. You want an answer to your question, my little master ? »

« Yes. And you are to give it to me ! »

The Voice seems pleased. She is almost purring.

« I am a part of you. The darkest part of you, but also the most distinct. I am your past, present and futurs sins. But I am also your teacher, your guide and your lover. I will teach, guide and love you. Does that answer to your question, my little master ? »

Boy frowns.

« You are a voice. How can you teach, guide and love me ? »

« Do you want me to be more than a voice ? »

No hesitations. And there are centuries of hardness in the childish voice of Boy.

« Yes. »

A pair of eyes. Bloody. Thirsty. Hungry. Malicious. Evil. They are the two flowers that guard the gate of Hell. Boy immediatly falls in love with them. Because they look at him with all the worship and the adoration of the world. Because they are the promise of a burning passion that ceases his young heart, already rotten.

« Do you want to see more ? »

« Yes. » The greed is not hidden. He wants to see more. To know more. To possess more.

A smile. With too much teeth to be human. Sharp, cruel, dedicated to him.

« More ? »

« Yes ! I order you, who bow, kneel and kiss my feets, to reveal yourself ! »

A seven year-old human being should not be talking like this. But Boy ceased to be a human being the day the Voice began to sing.

The Eyes and the Smile brighten.

« The rest of me will be as you desire it to be, my sweet, sweet little master. What do you want me to look like ? »

Boy frowns. Boy thinks. What would he want the Voice to look like ?

He recalls something. How the Uncle looks at the beautiful women with envy, and secretly wishes he would have one of them. How the Aunt look at them with jealousy, and secretly wishes she would be one of them. How they would be _so_ infuriated if they knew he possessed the only thing they could never have.

« I want you to be the most evil, beautiful, gorgeous woman anyone will ever see. Be the jewel of the world. »

The voices of dozens of adults devored by greed speak in his one. The Smile sharpened.

« Your wish is my command, dear little master.»

And She appears. She is small. She is a child. She must be the same age as Boy. She is not annoyed by the size of the cupboard. She has blond hair, perfect, pale skin, and red eyes that surpass all the rubis of the univers. She is His Passenger.

« I am afraid I can't be the jewel of this world, since you are. »

Boy smiles. And it is already fearful and deadly.

« You will be the jewel of this world, and I will be the King that will wear you. »

Girl smiles. Her white hand, whose nails are already long and sharp like claws, caresses Boy's cheek. I love you, she says. And she repeat it. I love you, my sweet little master.

She is Perfect. She is His. Forever.

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« What is your name ? »

« I don't have a name. I don't need one. Exept if you want me to have one. »

« You can't be Girl forever. You are my jewel. I want you to have a name. »

« What will it be, my little master ? »

Boy remembers a story the teacher of his primary school –an idiot- told the class : it was about greek gods, and a goddess that represented violence and revenge and fear. In the darkness of his cupboard, his eyes glows of a sick, strong green.

« Nemesis » he says, and his voice is nothing but a murmurs. « The darkest jewel of all times. The fear of every living being. My strenght. My possession. »

« Yours, » repeats the thing that has been named Nemesis. « Forever your slave, your teacher, your guide and your lover, my dear little master. »

Something intrigues Boy. Girl has a name, now. It seemed only natural to him at the moment because everybody had a name even if he didn't bother to remember it most of the time. But him, Boy, doesn't have one. He tells it to Girl –Nemesis.

Her laugher is like the purest music he has ever heard, and the worst torture that coul ever be endured.

« You do have a name, sweet little master. I told it to you. Your name is Destruction. »

« Detsruction isn't a name. It is what I will bring to the world. Destruction and Death. I want a real name. A name people will remember, and that will makes them shiver when they hear it. »

Nemesis's smile doesn't fade.

« Yes, I know what you want. But you have to know, little master, that a name is no useless thing. A name is a key to an unimaginable power that has been forgotten by every human being. To receive a name, you have to be worthy of it. »

« Does it have anything to do with magic ? » Calmly asks Boy.

An invisible fire shows the pleased face of the Voice that had a name and a face.

« Yes, my sweet master. It has everything to do with magic. It was a quick deduction that I can only applause. »

Boy shruggs, but he is happy in the inside, and he knows Nemesis knows it because her smile is warmer than normally.

« Magic is about names. About blood, intents, strenght but mostly about names. Names mean knowledge. Knowledge means power. Names are power. This is why you have to deserve one, and not be given one like your relatives did with so much idiocy. » There is scorn in Nemesis' voice.

Boy doesn't ask anything about the name his parents choose for him at his birth. He diesn't ask anything about his parents. He doesn't care.

Nemesis grins, and melts in the shadow.

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Boy is eleven, and isn't even surprised when the Uncle beats him for receiving a letter.

He is thrown in his cupboard, his face blank and the body in fire. Nemesis is immediately here, hands all over his body.

Boy can hear his breath. It's heavy, painful and smells like blood. The Uncle hits every time stronger.

« There, my dear little master. It will soon be fine. You shall heal quickly. »

« Nemesis, » says Boy, forcing a smile and trying to not look at his arm that makes a bizarre angle, « what was on this letter ? »

She smirks, and it is a smirk full of bloodthirst, triumph and darkness.

« Your destiny, my master. Your destiny. »

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Nemesis hates the semi-giant. She says he smells like garbage. Boy agrees, but remembers to put his best, polite smile when the beast comes through the hurricane to greet him. The beast says it is going to accompany him to Hogwarts, and it talks to him about his parents, and calls him "Harry".

Boy understands why Nemesis never told him this name : it is ugly, plain and grotesque. Boy doesn't care about that name. He wants his real name, which he is still not worthy of.

And there is a positive point : the beast made the Uncle pee on himself, and the Cousin too. Boy found it exhilarating. Near him, Nemesis only ran a hand through his hair, saying nothing but glaring at the beast.

But the beast proves to be useful, as it guided him through Diagon Alley –Nemesis' information was a little bit obsolete and made him discover all the money he had.

« You will have ten times more money when you leave Hogwarts, » says Nemesis, almost snorting at the Potter's vault.

« I do not care about money, » answers Boy.

This gains him a grin from Nemesis and a questionning look from the beast.

''Who were ya talkin' ta ?'' It asks.

''To myself.''

'''Kay. Well then, 'Ry, I gotta left ya for two minutes : gotta get something at another vault. Just wait for me in da hall, would ya ?''

Boy smiles to him.

''Of course, sir.''

''Call me Hagrid, 'kay ? I'm yar friend, not a 'sir'.''

Boy nodds, hiding his rictus of disgust.

« His death shall be slow, » promises Nemesis. It makes him feels warmer.

But then, the beast looks at him, and she disappears in the wind, her hair caressing Boy's cheek.

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Boy has to admit that even with what Nemesis told him, Hogwarts is still very impressiv. He is with the other children. Among them, a redhead that had tried to talk to him, only to face a polite smile as hard to break as a wall, and an annoying Mudblood that never seems to stop talking.

Nemesis couldn't talk to him. She had said that there were too much magic and people. Boy wasn't used to her being gone for so long –she hadn't showed up since King's Cross Station.

He had compensated reading everything he had bought, and even some books that he was sure he hadn't bought, but that still were in his luggage. They were about names.

Minerva McGonagall –something told him that he'd better remember that name- calls every child to be Sorted. She calls Boy 'Harry Potter', and boy has to force himself to not snort.

It was only temporary, he says to himself. He would have a new name when he would prove himself to be worthy of it.

He sits under the Sorting Hat.

It screams. It screams in Boy's head.

« Silence, stupid object ! » Hisses Boy in his mind. « Sort me ! »

He gets only stutters.

« _SORT ME._ »

The order is absolute. The Sorting Hat has to obey.

_Where ?_ It asks weakly. _I can't see anything. Just darkness, blood, slaughters, death and damnation. Where should I sort the monster you are ? _

Boy has to repress a smirk. He has the answer. He always had it.

''HUFFLEPUFF !''

The table breaks into applause. How proud they are to have the boy-Who-Lived with them. How naive they are, how pathethic. How _usable._ Boy goes and sits near anoter first year with his most charming smile.

Hufflepuff. House of the ordinary, plain persons. Nobody will guess that the ultimate monster hides among the Huffies. They will only see the so nice, gentle, _normal_ Harry Potter.

Until they all face their death.

And in the obscurity of the Hufflepuffs' dorms, in the darkest of the night, at the hour where even wolfs don't dare to go out by fear of the things that hide in the dark, Nemesis will bow and kneel at the feet of her master and kiss them worshippingly.

« My sweet, dear, little master, » she will whisper in a breath. « You were perfect. You were a King. »

She will raise her head, bloody eyes glowing with proudness and triumph.

« And a King deserve a name. »

And in the obscurity of the Hufflepuffs' dorms, in the darkest of the night, at the hour where even wolfs don't dare to go out by fear of the things that hide in the dark, one of them rises, ready to burn the whole world to ashes.

And his name shall be _Thanatos._

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_And there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. _

_In case you hadn't guessed (which i absolutely NOT blame you for. I mean, I didn't even dare to re-read it and it is more than certain that the whole thing is just totally confuse and means nothing) Nemesis is the horcrux that has been put into Harry. It has awaken and developed, using Harry's fear and hatred, and decided to make him crazy until the day it saw that Harry might be a powerful Dark Lord. And it decides to help him by serving him._

_I don't know if there will be something after that OS or not, maybe to describe Harry encounters with Voldemort and the other Horcrux, his rise to power, his relationship with Nemesis... I dunno, in fact. would you like it ?_

___I once again apologize for the mistakes, but english is not my mother tongue, alas. _

_Maybe I deserve a few reviews ? Pretty pretty please ? _

_Thank you for reading that anyway ! _

_See ya ! _

_King Pumkin _


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